julaug.

Working in the higher education environment comes along with a few unique realities. Freshman students will stay around the same age, for example, while each Fall finds me another year older. Students will always joke about chancing a bump from a campus bus for free tuition. Roommates will always be ready to cite “irreconcilable differences” (while rarely being ready to, you know, talk to each other about said differences). For me, working in residence life, one such reality is that July and August are annually destined to become a high-octane blur: Julaug.

I tweeted something along these lines, but the last days of June feel a bit like my last opportunity to catch my breath, bid a temporary farewell to my people. “See you in September,” I say, then laugh. Then pause. Then cry inconsolably.

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into existence.

This is, I imagine, something like the feeling in a skydiver’s spirit moments just before the jump. My fingers are shaky, my head and heart overflowing with words, my emotion a strange cocktail of optimism and fear and courage and quiet. I open the door, look out. Here it is:

Hello. I’m Michael King. I’m 25, almost 26. And I’m gay.

This blog post marks my first time really saying so – in clear terms and not context clues. Over the past few years, as I’ve gathered the courage to raise my voice and share my story, I have become convinced of the significance of taking this step. Of saying these words. We are not meant to hide ourselves; we should take heart and speak ourselves into existence. Those last four words have become commonplace in my conversations with LGBT friends and family. The courage to share our stories is essential, as stories light the way for those who may feel surrounded by fog. So here is me putting my words into action. My story is important; I’m telling it.

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lessons learned.

Well, friends, it has been some time. Just shy of five months, actually. In the space since I wrote last, life has unfolded and moved along in a speedy, unpredictable manner. Brayton/Clevenger Hall opened its doors, ushered in a new community of vibrant human beings, and I had the honor of bearing witness to the early moments of some pretty remarkable students’ college stories. My first semester as a full-time professional was a bit chaotic at times, but it’s been tremendously fun and rewarding as well. I’m growing, and I find that reality motivating. There is plenty of room to grow in every direction.

The same is true for my holistic self. Life over the past five months has had its share of twists, and I’ve had to shine a light on aspects of myself I didn’t realize were there. Brené Brown hails the importance of vulnerability to living a meaningful life, yes, but she also acknowledges how incredibly difficult that can be. No matter how far I go, I always marvel at how much remains to be learned, to be discovered. But I’m growing, and I’ve learned a few things over the past five months.

feet

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words of inspiration.

Friends, I am presently steeped in the training process. The past two weeks have been filled with happy reunions, excellent friends old and new, and quite a bit of information to juggle. And, one day, I might tell you all a bit more about that. But not right now. I’ve got stuff to do. In the meantime, I thought I’d share a few song lyrics with you. These song lyrics, as you might guess, have all been there to embolden my steps and push me forward some time over the past few years. They are written on my heart, and as such, I feel compelled to share them and their brilliance and hope that they may so encourage you. Until later, peace and blessings and love and, if there’s time, needless calories. (There’s time.)

imagine

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the time-in-between.

Confession time: Sometimes I break the rules I’ve set for myself. While I will emphatically profess it is always best to wash the dishes before going to bed, I sometimes wave the task away and collapse into my comforter instead. I’ve napped in contact lenses, used “literally” in a sentence that didn’t require it, and had ice cream twice in one day. This is the joy of writing one’s personal Constitution: There’s always room for an amendment or two.

This blog entry serves as the culminating product of two such rule breaches: (1) don’t be in your office past 8 PM ever, and (2) don’t wait to blog about something until it’s no longer chronologically relevant. Looking at it here in my drafts folder, I couldn’t bring myself to (1) leave the office or (2) delete the draft, and so here we are: a reflection on my time in between grad school and the move to Ball State.

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big new day.

At 9:43 this morning, I woke up to find a rainy Tuesday outside my window. Settling into my favorite sweatshirt and corner of the living room couch, I cradled my iPad and opened Spotify. Today was the day, I suppose I decided, to start a new playlist. A playlist for the next chapter. And I decided to call it “Big New Day.”

Over the past few weeks, I have moved through my life with an unsettling sense of being in limbo. It makes sense, really. The beautiful, chaotic blur of grad school drew suddenly to a close, the treadmill belt beneath my feet fading to a stop and my lungs thirsty for air. Somewhere along the line, perhaps out of survival, I lost touch with the art of relaxation. I have no thesis deadline looming, no conduct conversation to plan for, no RA staff to meet and laugh with. In some ways, this has been exactly what the doctor ordered. Time with family, time to breathe, time to plan for the next big adventure. But, each morning, I’ve woken with a bit of uncertainty as to what I should be committing my time to.

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closing eiu.

A little over two years ago, at the tail end of a rigorous grad school search, I found myself driving home from an on-campus interview at Eastern Illinois University. Prior to my visit, I was hopeful that this place might feel “right.” That I would somehow be given some sign that this was the correct next step. As I drove home, my mind racing over my interview answers and the interactions I had with staff and students at EIU, I found myself fighting with hope. I wanted this. I wanted it badly enough to allow the pesky, vulnerable light of hope in.

A few days later, in the muggy ambiance of my room in old Botswin (my A/C unit had recently checked out of the relationship), I fielded a phone call and, heart racing, I breathlessly accepted an offer. I was going to EIU!

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at the end of a decision.

Earlier this week, I had the opportunity to sit down and FaceTime with my good friend Maya Dub. Like a few other people in my circle, Maya is not a huge fan of me putting her business out there on social media. Suffice it to say that we met as RAs, that we once held a muffin war and helped plan a prison party, that we adventured in New York City for a summer, and that she never left that place. Some friends are more like siblings. So it is with Maya Dub.

Maya and I are both important people who lead tremendously busy lives. When the stars align and allow us a moment to converse, then, we waste no time with niceties. Immediately we steep ourselves in a series of audacious, unapologetic debates and critiques on the state of the world and the meaning of life. We speak as though we are proclaiming the secrets of the universe, as though we are on a pulpit delivering our personal brand of wisdom unto the masses. It’s a rich experience, and, every now and then, one of us comes up with something good.

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